Criticize
by That's Why Rabbits Fly
Summary: Derek's an Alpha. So he's not exactly pleased when he has to beg an old friend to help him out with the war and the Kanima. Now there's a larger pack running around Becon Hills; an Alpha threatening Derek's potition, and jailbait. Oh the jailbait.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I know I should be working on Bullet With Butterfly Wings but my muse ran away with some of the other ones... so this came up instead. Hope you enjoy. Oh and this will more than likely be slash and really AU.**

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Derek's eyes flashed red as the brunette glared at him. He was getting the impression that the other Alpha's watched _The Godfather_ one too many times. "So, you want me to put my pack on the line because you have a Hunter problem?" Allen questioned.  
If he had the choice he wouldn't be begging this little shit for help, but his pack knew a lot about creatures outside of werewolves. He was only 17, so Derek's pride was going to be so wounded because of this. He would have turned more wolves if it wasn't for he Argents declaring war on the pack and he was already training four werewolves who could barely control themselves; at least this pack could. "There is a Kanima killing people in my territory," the older Alpha growled. "Will you help me or not?"  
"How many of us do you need Hale?" Allen questioned, eyes flashing gold for a moment. Derek wrote down the number of wolves he would need, where they would be staying, and the town's name. "We'll be there in a week, make sure your pack house is ready. Two Omegas, about 10 Gammas, a Beta, and me," Allen told the Beacon Hills' Alpha. "Warn your pack on how our house is set up. And that we aren't like you."  
Derek resisted the urge to throttle the bastard, opening the door of the small office and slamming it shut behind him. He noticed the small black haired male reading, music blaring too loud for a werewolf to listen to with out fucking up their eardrums. Suddenly the Native American's head jerked up, eyes flashing black as he saw Derek. The color knocked Derek off balance for a moment; he knew there were cretures besides werewolves in the pack but he could tell that the younger male was a werewolf. So the kid was probably from a long Alpha bloodline.  
"Crowley!" He heard Allen yell. The Native American got up, marking the page in his book and walking into the office.  
Well at least he knew the kid's name.


	2. The Howling

**Okay this was a weird chapter to write for some reason. Besides for half of it I was trying so keep awake. I know how Jackson's the Kanima, but I have an idea for him instead. Kanima's going to be more interesting in this.**

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Crowley grabbed his duffle bag, flinging it over his shoulder before grabbing a black messanger bag and pulling it up his arm. Ash snatched three more bags from the back of the SUV.  
The work of an omgea was never done. Even when they were in someone else's territory.  
Ash's face twisted in disgust. "Ugh, I think Wes' girlfriends left him a few pairs of panties to him to remember them by," he groaned, taking a few more bags before he slammed the hood shut.  
As they walked towards the large house, they noticed a few male wolves walking towards them. They had to be from the host pack. "You guys need any help?" The blond asked them.  
"Sure, thanks," Ash replied, dumping a few bags onto the blond. The shorter male took a few bags from Crowley, who smiled gratefully but didn't say a single word. "Name's Ash Baggans, this slient son of a bitch is Crowley Lupus. Omegas of this lovely pack you'll be living with for possibly the next year."  
"Jackson Whittemore, my mate, Danny," the blond introduced. "Omega, Beta."  
They manger to squeeze into the doorway, Jackson kicking it shut behind them as they proceded into the house. "Where are you sleeping?" Ash equired. Jackson looked at him questionly. "We're stuck in the same room. How our pack works. Omegas with Omegas, Gammas with Gammas, Beta with Beta, Alphas get their own room."  
"Remember, Derek explained this to us last week. Stiles is the Beta, Scott, Erica, Issac, Boyd, and I are Gammas, and you're the Omega by their standers," Danny told his mate. "How many of these are yours?"  
Crowley and Ash lifted up their bags. "These. The rest belong to the rest of our pack. The one that smells like desprate bitches is a Gamma; Ol' Spice is Beta; cinnamon belongs to a Gamma; basically if you smell Ol' Spice and mud or rain and redwood they belong to either our Beta or Alpha," Ash explained. "Can you tell me we're sleeping?" Jackson lead them up a flight of stairs, leading them into a room off to the right.  
It had three beds shoved against each of the deep purple walls. The bed against to wall closest to the door was messy so Ash and Crowley figured the other two beds were for them. Crowley took the one parallel to Jackson and Ash took the bed under the window, throwing their bags onto the beds before walking out and dumping random bags into random rooms.  
"Ugh, I think I got Allen's bags," Crowley groaned. "Can you go ask someone where our Alpha's sleeping?"  
A deep voice answered him, "Up a level, third door on the right."  
Crowley visibly tensed, not facing the older man as he hurried up the stairs. "Okay, that's weird... you know him?" Ash asked the host Alpha. Derek shook his head, staring after Crowley.

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"You guys have a human Beta?" Ash asked curoiusly when he smelled Stiles.  
Crowley rolled his eyes at his friend, their local genius, who didn't realize how not every pack was as completely fucked up as they were. "Yeah, he doesn't want to be turned," Jackson replied.  
_Good thing too,_ Crowley thought. If Ash had been paying attention he'd been able to tell the Stiles was a _loup_, not a _lupus-goux_ like the host pack was. He was seriously questioning the claim that Ash was a genius. "Interesting. Knowing our Beta he's gonna be bitchin' about living with a human until gods know when," Ash voiced.  
"Pack doesn't like humans?" Danny pried.  
Ash shrugged, "They like them to an extent. You know, don't like them in the pack. Much like Crow and I here, but they deal with us because the whole 'strenght in numbers' thing."  
Crowley stood up and walked out of the room, bored with the conversation and eager to check out the town. He dodged a few of his own packmates as they passed by, ignoring the taunts that were thrown at him. When he finally got outside he climbed on his bike, sliding the black helmet over his head before starting it up and driving off the property into town.  
He recognized a sleek black SUV pass by him slowly. Even though he was looking through double tinted glass, he knew the man driving it.  
An Argent. Chris Argent.


End file.
